


Sandcastles

by BabySnoopy



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Angst and Feels, Descriptions of Blood, Descriptions of grief, Eventual Fluff, F/M, Heavy Angst, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Mentions of Emotional and Sexual Abuse, References to Depression, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-16
Updated: 2019-06-16
Packaged: 2020-05-13 05:51:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,203
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19245112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BabySnoopy/pseuds/BabySnoopy
Summary: when your soulmate bond allows you to see the traumatic memories of others by a touch of skin and Mark is claiming he can see memories too





	Sandcastles

**Author's Note:**

> find me on skydivingstars.tumblr.com

One of your biggest fears had been confirmed; the house was completely packed. You couldn’t even tell the difference between this get together and a busy morning at the fish market because the sound of the crowd drowned out any traces of music and instead all you felt was the loud bass vibrating through the walls. Red cups littered across every flat surface in sight - someone thought they were funny enough to somehow put one on the blade of a ceiling fan - and you watched as bodies shuffled here and there, trying to move within the cramped space. It’s thanks to Lucas that almost the entire cohort might be squished in the first floor of his shared house.

Speaking of, you saw your best friend make his way towards the top of the first flight of stairs, sitting in between the ground floor and the first floor where you felt somewhat peaceful away from the claustrophobia that is crowds. The noise was slightly more bearable from up here, or at least dialled down enough for you to carry a conversation without having to yell.

“You haven’t moved from this place since people started coming, have you?” Lucas asked. He took a seat one step below you, trying to squeeze his long legs within the narrow space the stairs allowed.

You raised your own red cup in front of his face, filled with orange juice, to show him that you did, in fact, go down to the kitchen before coming back to sit here. “At least I showed up for once.”

“Come on,” he whined, grabbing ahold of your leg, carefully avoiding the rips in your jeans around your knees. “It’s the night before the last semester starts and then we’re  _graduating_!”

You tried to pry off his fingers by shaking your leg, “that actually gives me more reason to leave early. Unlike you, I have an 8 a.m. tomorrow I have to be present for.”

“I don’t know why you nerds would ever register for an 8 a.m. on a  _Monday_ , but hear me out.” He raised a finger to shush you before you could make a remark. “This is your last chance to actually go out and meet people at uni. I know for a fact you won’t be coming to any of our parties during the semester—”

“Correct.”

“But once we graduate, we’re gonna get jobs. Then we’ll be busy with our jobs, we’ll get married, we’ll have families, we’ll grow old, and then we’ll retire!” His hands shot up into the air, palms up as though he held this entire timeline within his grasp. “Then, when we’re stuck in bed because our bones are creaking, we can only look back on the fun we had in our youth but you,” now he pointed accusingly at you, “won’t have anything to look back on.”

Whether Lucas was tipsy or not, his hand movements were always just as exaggerated because body language was essential if his words didn’t get across. He finished his monologue with a defiant stare in his eyes but you’ve heard this from him a hundred times before. Throughout all the years of your studies really.

You rolled your eyes, ready to repeat the same response you always had whenever Lucas tried to convince you to go out into crowded public spaces with him. It wasn’t that Lucas didn’t already know, just that he stubbornly believed that if he could drag you out enough, you’ll somehow just forget about the reasons why you didn’t go out that often. But before you could say anything, a voice from the bottom of the stairs spoke up, causing both you and Lucas to snap your heads towards the source.

“Hey Lucas, you got another bathroom? The one downstairs is... uh... occupied.” The voice belonged to a boy you don’t think you’ve ever seen before. He brought an arm to scratch the back of his neck like he was shy and you found it cute. The long sleeves of his dark blue hoodie hung over his hands, so he probably wasn’t holding a red cup, leading you to believe that his reddened cheeks might have actually come from an embarrassed blush.

“Mark! Yeah, yeah. There’s one upstairs, first door on your left,” Lucas nodded his head towards the upper floor, pulling his legs up to his chest to make way for the boy that politely nodded towards you to get by.

In response, you nodded back with a small smile and when he made his way past you both, you caught a whiff of his perfume, an oceanic scent strong enough to make you wonder how the smell of sweat didn’t seem to linger on him from the crowd below. When your eyes subconsciously followed his figure make his way up the next flight of stairs, you noticed his shoelaces were different coloured.

When you redirected your attention back to your best friend, wondering if you cared enough to ask him who that boy was, you caught Lucas staring intently at his wrist, brows furrowed and his lips mouthing something inaudible.

You knew what he was looking at. “Something wrong with your timer?”

“Y-yeah. The thing just sped up. Look.”

Right there, on his wrist where the veins are most visible, the timer that kept ticking did appear to have sped up. Last time you checked, Lucas wasn’t meant to meet his soulmate for another two years and yet now, it seemed that his soulmate would appear before him within the year.

“That’s so weird. This is like, around graduation time, right?” He asked, rubbing his finger against the timer again like wiping the glass of a watch clean.

You gave him a half nod, unsure of what to say because you were good at giving advice for just about any matter except soulmates.

Abruptly, Lucas jumped up with a wild look in his eyes, one that you think would be excitement for what a whirlwind the coming months have to offer him.

“I have to go tell Kun. See you later!” He bounced back down the stairs, taking two steps at a time. “Come down for a bit! Make some new friends!” He called.

You sighed as you watched Lucas disappear, finally letting yourself sink back into the comfort of your own solitude. It’s not that you wanted to be a walking cliché as that one outsider who didn’t find any fun at parties. The parties always  _seemed_ fun but whether anyone ever admitted it or not, parties in uni were just fun excuses to look for your soulmate sooner.

It was the excitement in sharing the type of bond you had, whether it was a timer like Lucas’ or a tattooed band or even having your soulmates’ favourite song stuck in your head even though you’ve never listened to it before. You didn’t even know the extent to what type of bonds existed out there but one thing that you were pretty certain of, was that finding your own soulmate wouldn’t be just as easy as meeting someone at a party.

So for you, it didn’t matter much. You’d much rather meet people in other settings where their first question to you wouldn’t be ‘what’s your bond?’

“Not much for parties?” Someone said behind you. You turned around to find the boy from before - Mark, you recalled Lucas calling him - standing behind you. His hands were stuffed into his jeans and he hopped down the stairs to sit two steps below you.

“Not really,” you admitted. Mark smiled at that, though his eyes quickly travelled from your face down to your hands, in which you habitually tucked into your crossed arms, away from his view.

“If you’re looking for the mark of a soulmate bond, you won’t find one,” your voice came out colder than you meant and it made you realise how fed up you’ve become over the multiple times you’ve been approached by someone else, eyes never where you could meet them and their ulterior motives quite obvious. “And if you’re looking to sleep with someone, I’m not interested.”

Marks eyes widened when your words settled and he shook his head repeatedly at your implications. “No, no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to - I just, I saw the ring you had on your finger. It, um - it looks pretty.” The way he stammered through his words sent embarrassment to wash over you but by now, you’ve had tons of practice.

“Oh,” you glanced down at your hand, forgetting which ring you had put on anyway. When you find the gold band on your forefinger, it was the one with a mint coloured daisy that you found in an old thrift store. “Thanks,” you said, quietly.

Mark nodded, pursed his lips, then pulled his hands out of his pockets to fumble with the sleeves. You could tell he might’ve wanted to say something more, but you didn’t particularly have the interest to recover from such a shameless accusation, so you got up without another word and braced yourself to push through the crowd to get to the exit.

* * *

 

“Jungwoo, I’m pretty sure this is going against the codes of ethics.”

“What codes of ethics?”

“All of them…”

Jungwoo threw his head back in his seat in exasperation, spinning his chair around when he tried to think. It was only the beginning of the semester and yet the libraries were already full. It was at desperate times like these when you didn’t arrive there quick enough that you sometimes asked Jungwoo to let you study in the little office he shared with one of the psychology professors. The perks of being a research assistant for the professor also came with access to the pantry that always had the best biscuits, though you never thought Jungwoo would cash in your favour for something like this.

He sprang his head up now then shuffled his feet towards you, rolling his chair forward. “Please?” He pouted, “you don’t have to get a detailed reading, I swear. Just shake her hand for a second. I just need an idea, even if its vague.”

You didn’t say anything, perhaps even hardened your expression, still frozen in place by the door of the office.

“You can have all the biscuits,” he started to say, reading your expression to see how you would take a bribe. When you cocked your head to the side, clearly disappointed in what this had come to, Jungwoo stepped up his game. “I’ll give you a duplicate of the key to the office. You can come in whenever you want to study. I’ll even get permission from the professor.” He knew you too well to make such an irresistible offer.

“Fine. Just a handshake.” You walked past him to set your bag on his desk then turned around to face him again, “I want that key by this week though.”

“Done.” Jungwoo grinned, feeling more relieved than ever to know that he had you to help him. It wasn’t that he was a lazy student, of course not, just that Jungwoo couldn’t figure out plausible past traumas based on the questionnaire of this one participant, so he resorted to desperate measures.

You admit being in Jungwoo’s office always made for some productive studying, and you were able to get a lot done before the participant arrived. She announced her arrival through a timid knock at the door and when Jungwoo rushed over a couple steps to open it, you saw her shyly standing there, barely able to say a word. Jungwoo asked to confirm her ID number and she nodded slightly, with a quick show of her student ID.

You took a deep breath and followed closely behind Jungwoo, making him yelp slightly when you poked him in the rib.

“Right, so, I just have a couple follow-up questions after you took the questionnaire. This is my... um, my assistant,” Jungwoo said, gripping your shoulder to push you forward.

“Hi,” you smiled, reaching your hand out. Carefully, you pulled your sleeve to uncover your bare palm and bracing yourself for the impact, you pursed your lips.

Handshakes were only meant to last for a couple seconds but the visions that came with the touch of your skin on another always felt like much longer. The office setting faded in an instant and you found yourself crouched down behind a table. Your face was wet and when you looked down, a stuffed bunny was clutched within your small fists. Shattering glass filled your ears as the only sound there it existed. You then looked up, peeking out from behind the table to see a man holding up a golf club. There on the floor a woman helplessly held her arms up but he took a swing and…

Jungwoo’s grip on your shoulder tightened and the pressure was enough to bring you back. You tried hard to bite down the tears that seemed to well up in your eyes, then excused yourself to go to the bathroom.

You washed your face a couple times, tried to calm yourself down after what you had seen. The time that you despised this ability was long gone but that didn’t mean you somehow found peace with it. You walked around always making sure your sleeves covered your fists because you never wanted to accidentally read someone like that. Subconsciously pulling your sleeves down, you returned to the small office to find only Jungwoo present.

When you walked in, Jungwoo turned around in his seat with a sad expression, almost pouting if he tried hard enough. “I’m sorry,” he whispered and you could tell he really was. Only he and Lucas knew about why you covered your hands  all the times, why you often avoided any form of physical contact in fear of accidentally brushing your skin against someone else’s.

“It’s okay,” your reassured him, pulling the only other seat - the professor’s - for yourself. “I mean, I could probably help a lot of people with this... ability, right?”

Jungwoo looked at you grimly. He knew you had asked a rhetorical question because going around playing hero was something he knew you didn’t particularly want on your shoulders. Being able to read someone’s traumatic past wasn’t exactly some sort of blessing and he knew how you felt about that. Unlike Lucas, Jungwoo had always favoured you staying in more and avoiding contact with others. But perhaps that was an opinion slightly biased because his own soulmate bond was quite different too.

Yet, he should have known better than to ask you to do such a thing. Surely, this was violating the ethics codes of psychology altogether, but watching the way you sat stiffly against the chair reminded him that your visions were so much more than just visual stimuli; your soulmate bond allowed you to feel and to live the trauma of anyone you touched and he’d be stupid not to think that every time it happens, it leaves traces on you that you couldn’t shake.

“Childhood trauma,” you said, finally. “Abusive dad, I think. I don’t know if he beat her, but I know he beat her mom.”

Jungwoo jotted down something in his notes quickly then thanked you endlessly for your help, promising over and over that he wouldn’t ask you to do such a thing ever again. Just as you were about to leave, the door swings open and your heart jumped to your throat, thinking it was Jungwoo’s professor. But when you turned around slowly, you were met with a familiar face.

“Mark?” You said, though it didn’t register that you said that out loud when Jungwoo gave you a puzzled look.

“You know each other?” He asked.

“You know my name?” Mark questioned you now, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. You were caught in the middle now, like a deer with two sets of headlights on either side and no easy escape. You never did give him your name and yet neither did he.

“I - uh…”

Of all the years that Jungwoo had known you, he had never seen you fluster up and get speechless so quickly as you did just then. His eyes flitted back and forth continuously between you and Mark, reading the situation all too well like the psychology student he was. “Well,” he then said, getting up and tapping your shoulder lightly, ushering you to get up too. “It’s time for you to leave.”

“What? But - ” You protested, your legs involuntarily moving towards the only exit that Mark still stood by. When you inched closer to him, he backed himself up against the wall to let you pass but Jungwoo seemed to grab him by the collar of his denim jacket as well.

“You too Mark; out.”

And the door is slammed closed in both of your faces.

It took you a moment to realise that you now stood in the empty hall outside of Jungwoo’s office with a guy you’ve barely had a proper conversation with. You crossed your fingers and your toes, hoping with everything you had that Mark wouldn’t strike up another conversation with you but this entire set up was made just for something like that to happen.

“It’s kinda unfair, if you know my name when I don’t know yours,” he said, turning around quickly to follow you to exit the building, his pace keeping up with yours so he could remain by your side.

Reluctant though essentially finding no harm in telling him your name, you introduced yourself, slightly trying to coat your voice with a sweeter tone to make up for how apprehensive you got the last time you spoke to him.

He smiled at that, repeating your name once more on his own lips and for some odd reason, it sounded in his voice.

“Do you wanna get lunch?” He said, eyes squinting as he looked up to observe a beautiful sunny day, not a single cloud in sight.

“I was just going to study-”

“Without eating? You’d be more productive with a full stomach. Come on, I was supposed to go with Jungwoo to this place where you can get a jumbo sized meal for really cheap.” You don’t say anything, trying to avoid the way he pleaded. You never usually felt bad for turning down plans with someone but he seemed to make it difficult for you. “I’d go alone but I can’t finish it myself,” he explained.

Finally, that is how you found yourself in a cramped booth of a small diner just a couple blocks away from campus, sitting across a very excited boy who was staring at the huge plate of fried rice like it was the only source of happiness he needed.

Just as his spoon was about to touch a grain of rice, he stopped and retracted his hand. You thought something was wrong but then you saw him close his eyes briefly and mouth something like a prayer. When he opened his eyes again, he looked straight at you. “Go ahead,” he encouraged.

You nodded politely, reaching out for a spoon with your fists still hidden within your sleeves. It’s just become a habit you’ve developed over time but Mark noticed it immediately, speaking up without really regarding it as a serious matter.

“You can see other people’s memories too?”

You almost choked on the food you were currently chewing, feeling your eyes water slightly and then hurriedly reaching out for the glass of water. He asked it like it was a casual thing, a calmness that made you wonder if he really knew what he was talking about.

“W-why do you think that?”

He shrugged, grabbing another spoonful nonchalantly, paying no attention to how agitated you had become all of a sudden. The booth you both sat in felt like it was shrinking. “Your sleeves,” he said, like it was the most obvious clue. “I can see them too.”

“What?” You voice came out barely as a whisper, much fainter even, leaving your mouth hanging open. It was a fact shocking enough for you to put your spoon down. You had never, ever in your life met anyone who could see memories the way you did and at this point, you were more convinced this was some supernatural ability than a soulmate bond because how could anyone in this world see the things you did, the way that you did?

It should’ve been a moment of celebration, you thought. The feeling that people get when they finally hear the first words someone had just said to them, the exact words written on their wrists since they could first read. You’ve heard that it felt like the putting together of puzzle pieces or anything along the same lines of that metaphor but here, in this booth, you didn’t recognise what you felt at all. 

A part of you wants to be happy, wants to get excited at the fact that you finally found someone else who had the same bond as you, someone that actually existed. But it was the way Mark was not the least bit roused by this fact, leading you to understand that there must be variants to this soulmate bond. Maybe he could see memories by touching more than just skin. Maybe he saw forgotten memories of past lives, whereas you saw trauma. Maybe he didn’t carry the emotions of the memories as you could - the worst memories were always anchored by the heaviest emotional charge. You don’t know. You didn’t know anything at all and just thinking about it was making your head spin.

Without meaning to, you reached for your bag, throwing it over your shoulder as you slid out of the booth in a hurry.

“I’m so sorry, I forgot I needed to do something,” you mumbled, a very lame excuse for how rude you were acting. You rushed out of the diner before Mark could chase after you, looking away from the glass window when you passed him again.

* * *

 

You should’ve known Lucas still slept in at 4 p.m., because you’ve been knocking on his door for fifteen minutes and your knuckles were getting sore. Just as you were about to walk around the house to see if you could sneak into an open window, you heard the locks coming undone. 

“What?” He hissed, clearly not happy about your arrival. His voice was hoarse and groggy, his hair dishevelled and sticking up in the air.

“Who’s Mark?” You barged into the house, welcoming yourself in without the need for cushioned introductions as to why you suddenly asked about a guy you’ve never really paid attention to. On that note, it was weird enough that you were asking about anyone at all.

Lucas inclined his head to the side, letting the words settle like dust in his mind at the pace of a snail. “Mark?” He repeated, squinting his eyes into thin air like the answer might appear somewhere there. “Lee?”

You waved your hand dismissively, “dunno his last name. Mark from the party, Mark who went up the stairs.”

He brought his hand up to rub his chin now, again another gesture that he thinks would help speed up his drowsy brain. He nodded, “yeah, that’s Mark Lee.”

“What’s his soulmate bond?”

He frowned now, “I don’t think he’s ever mentioned.”

“You sure?”

Lucas made no attempt to stifle his yawn, walking past you to plop himself down  on the couch, kicking his feet up onto the small coffee table. “Yeah. Actually, now that you mention it, he’s good at dodging the question.”

You thought for a moment and figured that would be pretty accurate. You were exactly the same. Going around telling everyone you could see their most traumatic pasts wasn’t something you really wanted to boast about; most especially if this was the one thing that supposedly connected you to someone else. You went to join Lucas on the couch now, sinking back into the cushions, letting out an exasperated sigh.

“Why? What’s up?”

“A week ago, he told me he could see memories too.”

Lucas sat up straight in an instant, eyes wide and no tiredness left in them. “For real?”

Your silence and blank stare was enough to tell him that you really didn’t know. For one thing, Mark not talking about it seemed to be consistent with you. If it were only that, you’d be brave enough to deduce that he really might be your soulmate. But something else felt sort of off.

The first time you could see someone’s memory was when you were ten, an age too young to feel the pain of an adult, an age too naive to really make sense of what happened. You had brushed against the hand of your teacher as she bent down to help you solve a problem. It wasn’t even a handhold or a handshake, just a mere brush of your finger against her forefinger and suddenly your vision transported you into a car.

It was raining and oddly enough you were the one driving the car. Up front you could barely see anything because of the pounding raindrops but to your right you could hear the voice of a small child. Looking just then, you saw the boy. Big eyes half hidden under a bucket hat and his little hands fiddling with an action figure. You didn’t notice it then, but after years and years of remembering this memory, of seeing it in your worst nightmares, you only realised later that the boy didn’t have a seatbelt on.

Moments later, seconds even, you don’t know because time worked different in these visions, the brightest headlights shone ahead in front of you and that was all you could see before black. Then there’s ringing in your ears, faint blinks, and a pain shooting through your head like someone was hitting a hammer against it. When you looked to your right, the boy was limp, blood dripping down his head and soaking his denim overalls like cranberry juice.

When you came to, your teacher shook you by the shoulders and was asking you if you were alright. Your head still pained and you could only take short breaths. Shakily, you looked to your right and was relieved to see your classmate frowning at you in worry. When you looked back at your teacher, something told you, or somehow you just knew, that the one who drove the car was her.

Ever since, there was no way to stop it, until you figured out that it only happened when your skin came in contact with someone else’s. Keeping yourself closed off from everyone else just seemed to be the easiest solution because you never wanted to accidentally tap into their darkest memories. These visions stayed with you because you could feel them like they were your own memories. So the reason why you couldn’t bring yourself to ask Mark more about himself, was because how untroubled he seemed. From the way he smiled at the party and the way he brought it up like it was no big deal.

If he just happened to be able to see memories but was not actually your soulmate, you didn’t want to even entertain the slimmest ray of hope that someone else out there could understand how you’ve been feeling all these years.

“Here,” Lucas said as he returned to the couch. You didn’t even notice him get up in the first place. He leans over to you and carefully held your arm out. You felt the cold tip of a marker against the back of your hand, watching as Lucas wrote down some numbers. “You should call him.”

You didn’t want to do such a thing. Calling someone else first might be the most uncharacteristic thing you’ll ever do and Lucas seemed to know you were thinking that.

“Even if he’s not the one, I really think you’ll feel better just knowing someone else can do what you can.”

Between the three of you, including Jungwoo, Lucas would be the very last person you’d seek advice from. Though here, as he tapped your arm as a form of comfort to substitute hugs, you knew that he was right. After all, if Mark had never spoken about his soulmate bond before, then there must’ve been a good reason behind why he told you.

* * *

Calling Mark became another task on your To-Do list, left procrastinated for weeks on end. You told Lucas the same old excuse that you were busy studying but really, you kept swinging back and forth between your thoughts, your very own civil war taking place in your mind. It seemed that the more you came up with reasons to approach Mark, the more that you were building a stronger wall to protect yourself. Of all the years you spent thinking you really might just end up alone, you were so afraid now, with the slightest possibility that solitude might not be your only choice.

“So do you  _want_ to know if he’s your soulmate? Or not?” Jungwoo couldn’t take another study session of you blankly staring out the window, sighing every couple minutes like you expected him to tell you the answer.

“Yes?” You said, hopeful, then, “no.”

Jungwoo slumped in his chair, throwing his pen onto his textbook. “You know what, I’ll just ask him-”

You smacked his arm away before he could reach for his phone. “You can’t do that!”

“Oh my god, what are you so afraid of? If he’s not the one, then someone else will be!”

A couple heads turned towards the ruckus you were making and feeling bad for the public disturbance you were causing in the library, you packed your things, whispering to Jungwoo that you should probably continue your conversation outside.

“I’ve been thinking about my bond,” you finally said as you both settled on a bench just outside of the library. You probably didn’t even need to leave considering how quiet your voice came out. It was the first time you’ve spoken the thoughts you’ve been having out loud. “And how... depressing - for a lack of a better word - it is to connect with my soulmate that way.”

“What do you mean?”

“Jungwoo, every time I touch someone, I see and live their most traumatic memories. What is even the point? How can I properly be with someone if I’m going to keep seeing them at their lowest points?”

Jungwoo thought hard, hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans as he stared at the falling leaves of autumn. The winds were chilly but you’ve gotten used to the cold by now. “Maybe it’s meant to be a blessing?”

“Like knowing their most traumatic memory would somehow make me able to empathise with them?” You laughed at that bitterly. “Yeah I thought that too. Like maybe, that would make me a better half for them. But I don’t know Jungwoo, I don’t think I could take seeing my loved one hurting the most each time I just want to hold their hand, you know?”

“Then maybe they stop.”

“What?”

“Maybe the memories stop, like how people’s timers stop when they meet.”

You hadn’t thought of that before. “But I’ve already met Mark.”

“True, but you haven’t read him, right?” You kept quiet at his question. He got you good, coming up with the kind of solutions that you might have wanted to ignore. He turned to face you now, eyes serious as they bore into yours. “Are you afraid of seeing his memories, or if he sees yours?”

* * *

 

You waited for Mark by the huge fountain that graced the middle of campus, the air so crisp and chilling to the bone that you wondered why the water hadn’t frozen over yet. Mark came running, panting with small wisps of fog from his breath and his cheeks flushed like the colour of your scarf.

“I’m sorry I’m late!” He cried, still hunched over with his hands on his thighs as he caught his breath. You couldn’t help but smile at the sight.

“I think I’m the one that owes you a few apologies.” You said, swaying your body slightly, either to keep yourself warm or to distract yourself from how nervous you actually were.

“The diner?” Mark said, torso rising up now to face you eye-to-eye as his gloved hands came up to warm his nose. “Don’t sweat it, I shouldn’t have brought up a topic that might be sensitive-”

“It’s not!” You blurted, your words coming before your own thoughts. “Sensitive, I mean. Soulmates. It’s not sensitive to me.”

“That’s cool,” though his intonation and his accompanied nod seemed to imply that he knew you made that up, that it was a topic with more grey space than just sensitive or not. It was harder now that you actually stood before him, even though you thought Jungwoo’s pep talk would be the pushing factor to get you to just do it. “Oh, I’ve got an extra ticket to see this band in the city tonight, wanna come?”

You weren’t surprised at the sudden invitation but you were surprised when you had agreed, not noticing even an ounce of reluctance to being at a crowded place with someone you barely even knew. What became the cherry on top was how you had asked Mark if he would go for a night walk with you after the concert as though all of your rules you abided by somehow didn’t matter at all tonight.

The walk was a relaxed quiet, except for the couple cars that zoomed past carrying drunk passengers that yelled non-sensical words out the window towards the both of you. The sidewalk was a little narrow but Mark still found himself able to walk at least an arm’s length away from you. It seemed to be a habit you yourself had formed as well. You had never been to a concert before. The idea in itself was terrifying. Worse than parties, being in the audience of a concert had the risk of being pushed forward to see the artist and you really didn’t want to have an epileptic wave of traumatic memories wash over you.

But maybe because Mark could also see memories that he somehow kept you safe in your own little bubble towards the back. Nobody came to shove you and even halfway through the setlist, you forgot all about the fact that you needed to avoid skin contact with anyone. You saw it tonight, how Mark took a totally different approach, making that extra effort to make sure he didn’t accidentally read someone else, as opposed to how you resorted to avoidance.

“How are you so bold in crowded places?”

Maybe it was the late night or the post-concert rush that gave you newfound confidence in diving for the deeper questions. He laughed at the way you had seemed so baffled by that. “I don’t see why I have to give up all the fun things.”

“Aren’t you ever worried about accidentally reading someone?”

“Yeah, all the time.” He shrugged now, cautiously angling his steps so that he could walk closer beside you. “But that just means I have to be more careful.”

That night, you fell asleep thinking about Mark’s words, replaying it over and over in your head and thinking about what kind of person you’d be, had you lived with a mindset like that from the beginning.

* * *

 

Spontaneous outings with Mark became an unlikely routine you fell into and you didn’t even realise that you were the first person Mark would call when he wanted to go out and do something. It had become such a recurring matter that even Lucas would reprimand you for how unfairly you were treating him.

“So if  _I_  ask you to come out and play frisbee with me in the park you won’t say yes, but if it’s  _Mark_ , you will?” His lips were pouty and his arms crossed, leaning against the wall.

“Don’t forget that it was  _you_ who gave out Mark’s number in the first place,” Jungwoo reminded him, busily skimming through his notes as he sat straight on the sofa.

“Oh come on you guys. You both convinced me to talk to him and apparently we do get on really well.” You tried to cheer them both up, shaking Jungwoo’s shoulders vigorously and then tugging on Lucas’ arm to make him face you.

Jungwoo lifted his head up towards you, “look, I don’t really care if you’re spending more time with him than us-”

“I do!” Lucas threw his hands down in frustration. It still weirded you out to see his timer at a stale 00:00 on his wrist. Now that he had met his soulmate, he was even more anxious about you and Mark.

Jungwoo’s stare turned into a mild glare. “Anyway, I’m just worried about you getting close to someone and not knowing if he’s your soulmate.”

“What if I don’t care?” You challenged, though it was a half-assed utterance. You’ve heard of people doing that before, ignoring their bond completely and disregarding the soulmate system in some sort of act of revolt. But coming from you, it might as well be a laughing matter. Even you could feel a snort coming soon after because not following the rules would send you into a fidgety state of mental instability. You would never be able to shoulder the guilt of abandoning your soulmate like that.

“Stop joking around, you have to ask him.” Although it is very rarely, Jungwoo could be scary if he wanted to.

“Fine,” you grumbled, pinky promising yourself that you would ask Mark the next time you see him.

* * *

 

Instead of settling into the conversation slowly or waiting for the appropriate moment, you abruptly asked Mark if the both of you were soulmates as you were filling up your cups with frozen yoghurt at the self-serve station. Mark was flustered, staring at you with his mouth slightly agape. He even forgot to let go of the handle of the machine until he felt mango flavoured yoghurt spill over onto his fingers.

“You said you could see memories too?” You spoke again, as soon as you both sat down at a table after Mark got himself cleaned up.

“Y-Yes.”

“How do you see them? What kind of memories do you see? Do you feel them too?” Your questions came like rapid fire and you didn’t know how to stop until Mark would interrupt you.

“Skin. Like you, right? I have a habit of keeping my hands in my pockets.” After some pondering, you realised he really did keep his hands hidden most of the time. How absent-minded of you not to notice that when Mark had noticed your unbearably long sleeves the first time around.

“Do you see trauma?”

“T-trauma? That’s what you see?”

This was where you froze, the frozen yoghurt suddenly making you feel sick. “You don’t?”

Mark’s faced changed into the type of expression someone would make before bearing the bad news. He leaned in closer to keep his voice low, “I see someone’s happiest memories... I feel them too.”

Then everything else about Mark seemed to fall into place. Why he was so nonchalant about his soulmate bond, why he was so unafraid about being in public areas with crowds of people. Why he carried himself so lightly and was able to laugh with the type of sincerity that never ran out. This was only because Mark could see and feel and live the happiest memories of everyone he touched. What a stark contrast to you. What a joke it was, that you actually thought you should’ve had a more positive mindset from the get-go.

You had become so closed off only because through the traumatic memories you could see, you experienced most of the ugliest sides of the random strangers that bumped into you. You knew exactly what it felt like for your whole world to collapse without anything even happening to you. The amount of pain and suffering you shouldered through this unbelievably unfair ability was what drove you to build walls that stood strong like castles.

Mark didn’t know any of it, for how could he? The memories he’s seen would’ve been like an unrealistic utopian montage, all sunshine and rainbows. Whereas yours was a living horror.

You stiffened at the way Mark gently placed a hand on the sleeve of your jacket. And it was clear, from how Mark couldn’t follow up with anything else to say, that he thought you would have seen happy memories like he did.

If you had grown sick of the soulmate bond before, now you absolutely loathed it. Learning how Mark saw happy memories when you saw trauma didn’t necessarily tell you whether you were soulmates or not. The damn thing didn’t come with instruction manuals but one thing you did know was that it might’ve been a little bit too cruel that if you and Mark had brushed against each other by accident, you’d see him in his saddest state but he would see you at your happiest. Even if such a memory did exist anyway.

* * *

 

After multiple instances of successfully avoiding - and ignoring - Mark, he finally tricked you into seeing him by having Lucas call you instead. When you opened the door to see Mark’s concerned face instead of your best friend’s, you were quick to shut it back but Mark’s foot was even quicker to block the door from closing. He seemed to sacrifice his foot for the sake of seeing you, holding in his yelp when you slammed the door into his limb.

Although you were visibly unhappy with Mark’s unexpected presence in your apartment, supported by your angry stomping to and from the kitchen to get him an ice pack, you were secretly - masked under unnecessary eye rolls - glad to see him. You didn’t know why though, it was rather odd that him being here didn’t feel intrusive at all.

Mark wouldn’t let his eyes wander anywhere else but at you, crouched down on the floor in front of him as you adjusted the ice pack on his throbbing foot.

“Call me crazy but I swear you’re my soulmate.”

You looked up at Mark who was sitting on the couch, and you couldn’t hold your stare enough to glare at him. Instead you felt embarrassed. Shy even, for no one has ever said such a thing to you. “You can’t say things like that, we clearly have different bonds.”

He shook his head, sliding off of the couch to join you on the floor. “Think about it. We see  _opposite_  kinds of memories. Where do you think the phrase ‘opposites attract’ comes from?”

“Magnets, maybe?” You almost scoot backwards to sit further away from Mark, but you decided otherwise.

“Okay, but bond type aside, you can’t tell me that you don’t feel anything? Like that this is just... right?”

You scoffed, “between  _us_?” You didn’t mean for it to come out as a taunt but Mark caught onto the challenge. As a result, he bent forward and got on all fours, leaning right into your personal space. His face was close enough to yours that you could feel his breath against your skin. Your reflexes should’ve kicked in immediately, should’ve fled from the scene and put enough distance between the two of you. But even the very fact that his skin was centimetres away from coming in contact with yours, didn’t seem to scare you.

“Tell me you don’t feel anything,” he whispered. The way that his eyes trailed down to your lips gave away what he was thinking.

“Don’t,” you breathed but it was a lousy attempt to stop him when his hand had already reached for the back of your neck, fingers pressing into your turtleneck and his nose almost touching yours.

Mark didn’t hold back. His lips captured yours, slightly hesitant at first but then easing into you when you give in. Even with all this going on, you had no chance to concentrate on any of it. Not the way he kept nipping at your bottom lip gently, not the way his other hand comes to rest at the bottom of your spine, settling himself down to pull you onto his lap. You didn’t even realise how you grew more fervent to taste him, how your bare fingers freely traced his jaw and down his neck.

You didn’t notice any of this because for once, for the very first time, your fingertips could touch the skin of someone else without the vividness of their memories latching onto you like ghosts, the ones that carried so much pain and sadness. For the first time, you were seeing the exact opposite; all of the days Mark felt the happiest.

They came in oversaturated flashes, like fleeting snapshots of the first time he had won gold in a swimming competition, having ice cream at the beach, seeing his mum laugh, skipping school one day. Your lips were the most sensitive part of your skin and you kept seeing more and more of Mark’s happiest moments, until you saw yourself. The exact memory of the first time he saw you on the stairs of that party. And it is then, right when you see that he looked back at you when he climbed up the stairs, that Mark knew you were his soulmate ever since. 

What pulled you away from selfishly drowning in the love and happiness you felt through Mark, were the hot tears that streamed down from the inner corner of his eyes, spreading onto your cheeks.

You let go first, knowing that if you were here seeing Mark’s happiest memories, then Mark was feeling and taking on the weight of the most hurtful memories you’ve had, ones that left traceable scars in your mind. He shut his eyes tight when your hands fell to his shoulder, making sure there was no other exposed skin coming in contact with him. You move to climb off of him but Mark put a firm grip on your waist, not letting you go.

Helpless, you watched his chest heave as he took deep breaths, trying to calm the sniffles that you couldn’t pretend you didn’t hear. Seeing him like this was what moved you to tears as well because he was only like this because of you. You didn’t know if you wanted to ask him what he saw. Was it when depression hit you hardest when you were lying limp on the floor, crying your eyes out alone for no reason at all? Was it when you had witnessed your uncle attempt to take his own life in the bathroom? Or was it that blocked out memory in the darkness of a janitors closet, when the first guy you ever had a crush on, touched you in places you didn’t want him to?

“I’m so sorry,” you said with a voice that was bound to break. It was bone-shattering to see him like this, to know every ugly feeling you had felt in the years you’ve lived, washed over Mark within the couple minutes you kissed him. Everything was coming undone. All the years you kept your guard up as if you knew what you were doing was unravelled there and then. You fooled yourself enough to think you built a castle within your mind when actually its walls were only made of sand, something so frail and weak.

But it was here in a moment that was as raw as flesh - where both you and Mark were overcome with memories and emotions of the other with an intensity that you had never felt before - did it feel like something so beautiful was completed.  _This_ was the missing puzzle piece everyone kept talking about. You don’t even know how but you somehow just knew, as though these instructions were written on the back of your hand, that this moment you had just shared with Mark, was the conclusion of your soulmate bond. It was like the universe was here to say, “it’s okay, you finally found him.”

Much, much later, when the rubbish bin was full of wet tissues and the both of you lied on your stomachs, facing each other on your bed, you tested the waters. You reached out one hand, your forefinger shaking as you inched closer towards Mark’s face. He closed his eyes like he braced himself to bear the weight of your pain again but at the soft touch of your fingertip, there was nothing. No memory flashed by in your mind and when Mark opened his eyes, confused, you knew that no memory flashed by in his mind either.

“It’s you,” you said and he smiled as he reached his own hand out to trace down the bridge of your nose. He touched you with such reassurance that it wasn’t electricity you felt, but relief rather, as a form of waves that washed away the remains of the sandcastles of your mind. 


End file.
